12-11-2019, 09:48 PM
HALCYON
All that Halcyon has are things that are not quite memories, the heaving of his tiny lungs, and the coughs that wracks his thin chest. He certainly has no idea where he is, or even who or what he might be. His world had been wet and dark, and then bright and dry, and then wet and dark again. Now he is somewhere between them all, with his back warmed by the sun and his white belly on the damp sand. There is no twitching presence beside him anymore, not since he’d been squeezed into strangeness, and he is reluctant to open his eyes again, fearing the blinding brightness.
An hour passes and the tide recedes.
Halcyon remains on the beach, though he has managed to tuck his legs beneath him. His chin rests now on tawny forelegs, and his baby-blue eyes are finally open. He’s far larger than a tiger cub his age (a few hours) should be, and far more developed. Some blend of magic, perhaps, a halfway point between the mobility he’d have were he born as equine as his twin. He’s a blend himself, much more tiger cub than foal; most certainly unnatural. The only certainty about the odd little thing is that he is very young, much too young to have washed up on the beach alone like he has.
Halcyon knows nothing, but he does know he is missing something. The trouble is: he’s also not sure how to get whatever that something is. It should have been given to him, but it hasn’t, and so he calls out. Little mewling cries, rising in volume as he attempts to wobble to his feet. He face plants a few times, falls over and gets stuck on his back, but with each tumble he learns more about the mechanics of his squat little body and becomes ever sturdier. Of course, he does not know where he is going and wanders in a large circle. He might have toddled right back out to sea had a wave not come and struck his paws.
With a sharp yowl, he tumbles backward, and lies there for a long time, looking up at the sky, his paws crossed across his chest.
An hour passes and the tide recedes.
Halcyon remains on the beach, though he has managed to tuck his legs beneath him. His chin rests now on tawny forelegs, and his baby-blue eyes are finally open. He’s far larger than a tiger cub his age (a few hours) should be, and far more developed. Some blend of magic, perhaps, a halfway point between the mobility he’d have were he born as equine as his twin. He’s a blend himself, much more tiger cub than foal; most certainly unnatural. The only certainty about the odd little thing is that he is very young, much too young to have washed up on the beach alone like he has.
Halcyon knows nothing, but he does know he is missing something. The trouble is: he’s also not sure how to get whatever that something is. It should have been given to him, but it hasn’t, and so he calls out. Little mewling cries, rising in volume as he attempts to wobble to his feet. He face plants a few times, falls over and gets stuck on his back, but with each tumble he learns more about the mechanics of his squat little body and becomes ever sturdier. Of course, he does not know where he is going and wanders in a large circle. He might have toddled right back out to sea had a wave not come and struck his paws.
With a sharp yowl, he tumbles backward, and lies there for a long time, looking up at the sky, his paws crossed across his chest.
shut off your mind and let your heart breathe
@[Aquaria]